


I Thought It Was A Floating Door

by Mullsandmutts



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: A stab at lighthearted fun, M/M, To lift our weary spirits, and inspire some, life into our poor hawks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mullsandmutts/pseuds/Mullsandmutts
Summary: The Core welcomes new guys with The Speech. It’s time to see if the youngsters are ready to have the torch passed to them for such things. Chaos ensues .... of course it does.





	I Thought It Was A Floating Door

**Author's Note:**

> Just a goofy silly thing that jumped into my brain and wouldn’t let go. Posted it on tumblr and then thought I should share it for the 1988 fans here. No real plot, no sex, no romance - just a light hearted goofy romp because man do we need some of that these days.

“Explain to me again why we still do this to ourselves,” Jonny sighs long-sufferingly while Patrick reaches up to knock at the door to Dahlstrom’s hotel room. Patrick peeks back over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?” Patrick snorts. “This shit gets better every single time. I still almost piss myself when I think back to Shawzy.”

“Okay, first,” Jonny scowls. “You promised to never mention that night again and second …” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence because the door flings open.

“Ahhhh, the guests of honor have arrived,” Hartzy announces and makes a stiff, wide flourishing half-wave/half-bow kind of move. “Do please come in.”

Jonny’s eyes narrow suspiciously as he follows Patrick into the room. Hartzy just smiles widely and gives him a little wave, not intimidated at all.

Dahlstrom’s hotel room is filled with hockey players of various sizes, Dahlstrom sitting on his bed with wide and justifiably freaked out eyes.

Seabs is sitting backwards in a desk chair with Duncs perched on the desk next to him. Sharpy has commandeered the lone cushioned chair in the room, feet perched up on the ottoman as if he is on a throne. Hartzy is standing near the door and Vinnie is hovering near his elbow. Schmaltzy is standing by the window, looking down over Minneapolis and blinking repeatedly. 

Oddly enough, it’s Schmaltzy that Patrick decides to start with.

“Whatcha doing there, Nicky?” Patrick sounds bemused as he settles down onto the tiny loveseat and kicks his feet up onto the glass end table, grunting and glaring as Jonny squeezes his large ass into the small amount of space left next to him. Schmaltzy holds up a hand as if to stop him and doesn’t answer, head continuing to nod slightly.

“He’s counting how many red cars pass on the highway,” Vinnie offers helpfully. As if that were helpful.

“And he’s doing that because …” Jonny asks in a tone that conveys deep judgment.

“Do you really want to delve into the inner-workings of that brain?” Seabs raises an eyebrow and points a thumb in Schmaltzy’s direction.

“Another stellar example of the University of North Dakota General Studies Program,” Sharpy offers dryly and Patrick cackles, earning a scowl from Jonny.

“Then why is he here for, you know, The Speech?” Jonny rubs a hand over the bridge of his nose, already starting to get a headache. 

“Well, Toe-ez,” Sharpy replies from his throne. “The rookies have been proving themselves on the ice so we think it’s time for them to take over the reins.”

“And us three are totally up to the task,” Hartzy says proudly.

“I think the correct phrase would be ‘the three of us’,” Vinnie offers lowly.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Hartzy’s brow furrows.

“Kind of …” Vinnie starts and then shakes his head, patting Hartzy on the shoulder. “You know what? Not important.”

“Um, not to interrupt,” Dahlstrom offers nervously from the bed. “But is this an intervention or something?”

“Why, are you an alcoholic?” Hartzy demands and earns an elbow to the ribs from Vinnie.

“Dude,” Vinnie hisses, “You can’t just like ask that shit.”

“Oh, right,” Hartzy blinks. “Sorry man. Um, do you have like a substance abuse issue or something?” He then forces a smile that is probably meant to be reassuring but is reminiscent of a serial killer.  
Vinnie groans into his hands.

“But we think they’re ready for the reins?” Duncs looks dubious from his perch.

“I’m ready for a drink,” Seabs sighs.

“It’s 10am,” Duncs looks scandalized.

“This team lowers the bar on acceptable social standards in many areas,” Seabs replies dryly.

“Biscuit speaks the truth there,” Sharpy nods approvingly from across the room.

“Dude,” Hartzy hisses. “You can’t talk about drinking in front of someone with an alcohol-ay oblem-pray.”

“You do know that one, pig latin isn’t actually a foreign language and two, that wasn’t even pig latin, right?” Vinnie rubs his forehead wearily.

“Oh really?” Hartzy crosses his arms. “You’re an expert or something now? This from a guy whose Instagram basically follows rappers, guidos, and golden retrievers.”

“I follow you and you are none of those things,” Vinnie points out. “And what the fuck is a guido?”

“Totally not important when we are supposed to be having a serious discussion about his drinking problem,” Hartzy nods over at Dahlstrom.

“But we’re not talking about …” Vinnie throws his hands up in the air.

“Actually, I don’t even drink more than a beer or two when we go out,” Dahlstrom starts to offer helpfully.

“Great,” Sharpy smiles. “Now that we’ve settled that. Vincent, let’s get back on task. You may proceed.” 

Vinnie nods and turns to Hartzy and takes a deep breath as if he’s getting ready to take the ice. He holds up a fist to bump. Hartzy nods, steels his face and returns it.

“You ready, Nick?” Hartzy calls over to Schmaltz who holds up a hand one more time.

“Ninety-nine … One hundred. Boom!” Schmaltz turns back to the room, arms raised in smug victory.

“Good job?” Patrick offers questioningly. Nicky beams at the almost-praise.

“So, Carl,” Vinnie affects a serious tone. “Now that you have officially been called up from Rockford, we have summoned you here….”

“You actually all came to my room,” Dahlstrom interrupts but Vinnie ignores him and continues.

“To explain to you some very important information about the Blackhawks. These are closely-guarded secrets that are passed down from player to player and you can speak of these things only to us. You can never talk to another living soul about them. Not wives. Not girlfriends. Not other teammates. Not friends. No one.”

“Snitches end up in ditches,” Hartzy offers threateningly and makes a slice motion across his throat as Dahlstrom’s eyes grow wider.

“Okay, that’s maybe exaggerating a little bit …” Sharpy offers with a frown.

“He just means that this information stays within the Blackhawks organization forever and always,” Seabs offers with a long-suffering sigh. Dahlstrom nods solemnly.

Vinnie clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace like a prosecutor during closing arguments.

“Carl,” he starts, “There will be many things we share today but we will start with the most absolute important of them all. Have you ever seen the movie Titanic?”

Dahlstrom snorts but then freezes when he notices that all pairs of eyes are trained on him and not laughing.

“Uh,” he coughs. “What, like with Jack and Rose and the boat and shit?”

“Exactly!” Hartzy claps and nods approvingly.

“Oh, here we go,” Patrick mutters, head falling back against the loveseat.

“So, the thing you have to remember most is that to the Chicago Blackhawks,” Vinnie pauses dramatically. “Jonny and Patrick are Jack and Rose.”

“Huh?” Dahlstrom asks eloquently.

“To be clear,” Jonny offers as he stretches out and lets his thighs roll out even further, squashing Patrick even more into the loveseat. “I would be Jack.”

“Why the fuck do I always have to be Rose?” Patrick snaps, shoving back uselessly against Jonny’s gargantuan thighs.

“We have this argument every fucking time, Kaner,” Seabs sighs. 

“It works because of the metaphor and your personalities. You have to be Rose.” Duncs explains.

“Plus, you’re prettier than he is,” Sharpy offers, waggling his eyebrows.

“You are pretty. It’s the eyes and bone structure, I think.” Schmaltzy offers earnestly. Patrick smiles back fondly. Jonny narrows his eyes.

“Anywayyyy,” Duncs drawls and Vinnie nods.

“Right,” Vinnie jumps back in. “So, Jonny is Jack and Patrick is Rose.”

“So, they’re …. Um, banging?” Dahlstrom asks haltingly. Sharpy laughs so hard that he spits Gatorade out his nose.

“What the fuck,” Jonny and Patrick bark out in unison while Sharpy wheezes.

“That’s not ….” Vinnie screws up his face as if he’s thinking about how to best answer the question. “That is not a topic that we will be addressing at this time.”

“But it is a question for the ages, isn’t it?” Sharpy gasps and sounds like he’s choking. Schmaltzy, who is closest, reaches out and pounds him on the back.

“You should hit him a bit harder, Nick,” Patrick suggests pointedly and Schmaltzy nods seriously, reaching up and looking as if he’s about to bring all of the force in his lean body down onto Sharpy’s back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sharpy reaches up to stop the potential assault. “Thanks though. You don’t know your own strength there, Lennie.”

“At any rate,” Vinnie bravely attempts to get the conversation back on track. “Jonny and Patrick are our own version of Jack and Rose. Minus the banging. At least for today’s conversation.”

“Do you want to draw me like one of your Canadian-French girls, Taze?” Patrick bats his eyes ridiculously at Jonny.

“It’s French-Canadian, dipshit,” Jonny pushes Patrick’s face away from him. “And you wish.”

“Snapchat dick pics don’t count, boys,” Sharpy grins at the synchronized middle fingers from Jonny and Patrick.

“So then wait. Are the Hawks the Titanic?” Dahlstrom asks in clarification.

“Hey, nice! Very good,” Hartzy nods approvingly.

“So, then … we’re sinking?” Dahlstrom asks.

“What? No, no,” Vinnie jumps in, waving his hands. “Well, kind of. I mean, sort of. Like, we could be sinking. We will be sinking. But hope is not lost as long as we have Jack and Rose. And lifeboats and shit.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly …” Patrick starts.

“I mean we aren’t the only people here,” Jonny says at the same time. “It’s a team effort.”

“Can the speech, Captain,” Sharpy rolls his eyes. "This isn’t the media. Let the rookies run with this and we can do damage control after.“

“You know, we’re actually not rookies any longer,” Hartzy crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, like two seasons now for all three of us,” Vinnie offers.

“Semantics,” Sharpy shrugs. 

“So, the ship is sinking and Jack is going to die and Rose is going to live and throw the diamond in the water when she’s old?” Dahlstrom asks.

“Dude!” Schmaltzy’s face is horrified.

“You don’t have a lot of romantic instincts do you, son?” Seabs shakes his head sadly.

“And you can’t just,” Vinnie sputters. “You’ve skipped ahead like all of the important parts, Carl.”

“Sorry,” Dahlstrom looks suitably chastised.

“Anyway,” Hartzy takes a deep breath. “So, fast forward. We are in the water. Danger abounds. Times are grim. Jack and Rose are bobbing along, freezing their nuts off. For fucks sakes, what?” He snaps at Vinnie who has just elbowed him in the ribs.

“Rose wouldn’t have nuts,” Vinnie hisses.

“Yeah, but Patrick does,” Hartzy hisses back.

“I don’t see how Patrick’s nuts are relevant to the conversation,” Jonny scowls.

“Well, that’s a first,” Sharpy drawls and ducks the magazine that Jonny flings in his direction.

“Fine,” Hartzy sighs. “So, Jack and Rose are bobbing along, freezing their asses off.” Vinnie nods, satisfied. “The thing you gotta know is that Jack is always going to be the guy that is going to find the bookcase for Rose to float on.”

“Wait,” Schmaltzy holds up a hand. “I thought it was a floating door?”

“I thought it was the top of a piano,” Seabs scratches his beard.

“Pretty sure it’s just a piece of wood,” Duncs mutters from the desk.

“Someone Google it,” Patrick demands.

“Already on it,” Jonny taps away at his phone.

“How many times have we done this speech and this has never come up?” Seabs looks over his shoulder at Duncs who shrugs.

“Floating door. Boom!” Jonny holds up his phone as if everyone can see. Patrick fist bumps him approvingly.

“Ok,” Hartzy sighs and starts again, “So, Jack - aka Jonny - is gonna find Rose - aka Patrick - a door to float on. So, they’re swimming around and around.”

“And Rose is probably bitching about how cold it is the whole time,” Jonny mutters.

“And Jack is probably taking his sweet fucking time picking out a non-treated, locally-sourced vegan recycled door with non-toxic paint,” Patrick snipes back.

“Do you know how toxic varnish could be to the sea life?” Jonny’s eyes are wide and wounded.

“They didn’t even have varnish in 1912,” Patrick spits back.

“I’m pretty sure they did,” Duncs starts.

“Somebody Google it,” Schmaltzy demands.

“Already did,” Jonny shoves his phone in Patrick’s face. “It did exist and it probably had lead in it.”

“Anywayyyy,” Sharpy interjects and motions for the rookies to continue.

“So, Jack finds Rose a floating door and helps her, er, him, get up onto it,” Hartzy says. “Then Jack, well our version of Jack, is so focused on supporting Rose that he won’t just stop with that floating door. He’s gonna go all around the water and test like fifteen doors. He’s gonna keep trying all the doors until he finds the perfect floating door because he wants everything to be perfect for Rose. Because Rose deserves the best, the top of the line - all the good things - as far as Jack is concerned. Only problem? Rose here is probably sliding off the door back into the water every time to join Jack on his search.”

“Why would Rose do that?” Dahlstrom scratches his head.

“Because Rose is a stubborn dickhead,” Jonny snorts and earns the elbow to the ribs from Patrick.

“Maybe because Rose is trying to be supportive and help Jack,” Patrick offers.

“Jack has it covered,” Jonny replies defensively. “Jack is good. Jack found a door for Rose where Rose would be safe and dry until help arrives. Jack is just double-checking and taking time to see if there are safer doors for Rose. All Rose has to do is stay on the damn door. But because Rose is an asshole, Jack has to keep shoving Rose back up on the door and get closer and closer to death.”

“Well maybe,” Patrick answers hotly. “If Jack wasn’t such a dumb mother fucker, he would realize that the door is perfectly fine and he can just climb up on it with Rose. He literally can avoid death by climbing up on the fucking door with Rose. Done and done. But no. He’s going to keep swimming around and be all stoic and self-sacrificing and end up freezing to death. And Rose is not going to let that happen so Rose is going to follow him on his stupid door journey even if it means they both have to die.”

“I don’t think Jack would have even fit on the same door as Rose,” Dahlstrom offers hesitantly.

“Oh no,” Hartzy brightens visibly. “He totally would have. When Sharpy gave this speech to us and Hayden, Hayds totally got out paper and a pencil and drew the diagram and did a bunch of geography and shit to prove it.”

“Geometry,” Vinnie offers under his breath into Hartzy’s ear.

“Geometry and shit,” Hartzy amends. The room is quiet for a moment as they all mull it over.

“Still with us, Nicky?” Patrick looks up at Schmaltzy who is staring at the ceiling. 

“Do you think the ceiling is white or beige?” Schmaltzy asks as he stares. Jonny takes a breath and starts to say something but Sharpy holds up a hand to halt him.

“What color do YOU think it is, Nicky?” Sharpy asks amusedly.

“I can’t tell,” Schmaltzy says sadly. “It’s hard to know.”

“Pretty but not so bright,” Duncs mutters lowly to Seabs.

“Kind of the theme of this team,” Seabs mutters back.

“So …” Dahlstrom starts. “Jack just wants Rose to be safe and have the best door possible and will do anything he can to make that happen. And at the same time, Rose just wants Jack to be safe and will stick by his side even if it means they both will freeze to death in the water?”

All eyes stare at him.

“Wow,” Sharpy whistles appreciatively.

“That was fast,” Seabs is impressed.

“Good job,” Duncs nods approvingly.

“Fucking A,” Vinnie shouts and high fives Hartzy. “We fucking NAILED the speech. Look how fast he learned it!”

“I’m not sure I learned…” Dahlstrom starts.

“I really don’t think it had anything to do with your delivery process,” Jonny rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“Hey,” Patrick defends his babies. “Give them credit. They did a great job.” Vinnie, Hartzy and Schmaltzy all beam at the praise from their momma Kaner.

“Well, I think our work is done here. Good talk,” Sharpy hauls himself up, claps Dahlstrom on the shoulder and starts to walk out the door. “Oh,” he stops casually after he opens it to look back in one more time, pulling a key card out of his pocket. “Anyone want to guess who this belongs to?” His smile is sharp as he takes off running down the hall.

“Fuck!” Jonny and Patrick shout in unison, realizing that it in all likelihood, Sharpy the Shapeshifting Demon has somehow probably managed to get the key to one of their rooms and is about to wreak havoc.

Patrick is off like a shot after Sharpy, Jonny right on his heels. 

Schmaltzy, Vinnie and Hartzy take off too, not because they have any idea what is happening but because if it made momma Patrick freak out and run, then their support and assistance will obviously be needed. They must avenge.

Only Duncs and Seabs are left with a quiet and shell-shocked Dahlstrom.

“I feel confused and ….” Dahlstrom starts.

“Violated?” Duncs offers dryly and hops off the desk to head to the door.

“Ignore him,” Seabs chuckles and stands, crossing over to put a reassuring hand on Dahlstrom’s shoulder. “We will let that settle for a bit and then chat about that and some general stuff about team and such later. We just want to welcome you aboard, kid.” He starts to walk to the door until Dahlstrom calls out.

“Hey, so I’m confused about one thing,” Dahlstrom scratches his head.

“Only one? That’s pretty good,” Duncs offers.

“So, if those two are Jack and Rose and all of that stuff,” Dahlstrom waives his hands around, “Then Jack dies and leaves Rose all alone. And even though they clearly have some issues, it seems like the two of them need to stay together and alive.”

“Yup,” Seabs replies, meeting his eyes thoughtfully. "All you really need to remember out of all of this conversation is exactly that.“

“But in the movie,” Dahlstrom’s eyes are sad. “Jack and Rose get separated and even though it’s years apart, they both die.”

“True. But there are also no comparable roles for the rest of us in the movie. Maybe if there had been, it would have worked out differently,” Seabs stares at him pointedly. “It’s our job to make sure that this time, they get their happy ending.” 

Dahlstrom nods, understanding what is not being said.

“Really?” Duncs snorts. “You’re going to actually go with the phrase ‘Happy Ending’?”

“I meant like happy endings in Disney, you pervert,” Seabs rolls his eyes and then grimaces. “But thanks for putting that visual in my brain. Gross.”

“Wishing you were back in Rockford yet, kid?” Duncs asks with a grin as he stands at the open door.

“Nah,” Dahlstrom smiles back. “I’ve always been a fan of complex love stories and epic disasters.”

“Well,” Seabs nods. “You should feel right at home here then.”

**The end**


End file.
